


Euphoria

by kirschtrash



Series: Musical Musings [10]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Amnesia, Amnesia AU, Angst and Humor, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Comfort/Angst, Fluff and Angst, Heavy Angst, Hurt Keith (Voltron), Hurt Shiro (Voltron), Hurt/Comfort, Inspired by Music, Isolation, Its silly but I had to, Keith (Voltron) Angst, Loneliness, M/M, Non-Explicit Sex, One-Sided Keith/Shiro (Voltron), Pining Keith (Voltron)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-29
Updated: 2018-09-22
Packaged: 2019-06-18 03:19:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,415
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15476532
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kirschtrash/pseuds/kirschtrash
Summary: "If memories can hurt, then so can they heal."This is a story of love, loss, and life - a story where Keith discovers what kindness feels like, and Shiro learns what it means to live again.





	1. Serendipity

**Author's Note:**

> This was something that started silly but ended up sad. Enjoy <3
> 
> (Chapter 1: [Serendipity](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BEMaH9Sm3lQ))  
> (Chapter 2: [Singularity](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=p8npDG2ulKQ))  
> (Chapter 3: [Euphoria](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kX0vO4vlJuU&t=4s))
> 
> Follow me on [Tumblr](http://kirschtrash.tumblr.com/) and [Twitter](https://twitter.com/kirschtrash) if you wanna come and say hi~

**Euphoria**

**_Chapter 1: Serendipity_ **

 

* * *

 

 

“What’s on your mind?”

The question interrupts Keith’s reverie like a hand nudging him awake, a gentle touch. He lifts his chin off of his palm, blinking himself out of his daze. Clinking plates, the warm scent of coffee in the air, ringing laughter - it all hits him at once.

“W-what?” he asks, oblivious to the fact that he just stared at empty space for a total of two minutes.

Sitting before him, a familiar stranger holds his cup of coffee up to his face. He can hear a hint of a smile, when he asks again, “You look pensive today… is something on your mind?”

Keith’s eyes lock onto deep, brown ones. Eyes the color of warmth, of kindness.

 

*

How could he give an answer?

*

 

The question did not bring words to his mind - but rather, a memory. A distant memory that he could still remember as clear as day, as if it had happened a few moments ago. It never aged, it never grew stagnant. It’s always been… _there_ , trapped in his mind. Like a movie, playing over and over and over again.

It takes Keith to a sidewalk on a Monday afternoon, bustling thick with adults, children, strangers. Complete strangers. The sun was beating down on his brow, the summer heat stuck against his skin, and he wanted nothing more than to get back to his apartment and call it a day. But then, he saw something.  
Among the blurred bodies and constant noise, stood a man completely still, completely silent. He held an obnoxiously large map, staring at it as if it were to give some direction that his smartphone could not. To the layman, it all looked comical. But to Keith, he looked so confused, lost, alone.

Keith’s world has always been small, insignificant compared to the universe. It had walls too high for anyone to climb, too wide for anyone to cross. It never had room for people he could care for, or people who could understand him - least of all strangers. His world was void of contact, concern and meaning.

A world like that could not possibly help someone in need, like that lost stranger. But for once, Keith felt like trying.

He still remembers how he had brought down his own gate for the very first time, and walked out to get hold of that lone person. He tapped his shoulder once, apologizing when he realized that startled him. He had step back, and tip his head up a little, underestimating the obvious height difference. Yet, summoning all his willpower, he bit the bullet:

“Excuse me, but you seem lost. Do you need any… help?”

The stranger brushed a tuft of white hair off of his forehead, cutting through his otherwise black hair. Scratching his back, he said, “Ah, wel... I-It’s my first time in this city, so yeah… Not really familiar with everything yet.”

Keith managed a smile. “New York’s pretty huge - I wouldn’t be surprised if anyone got lost.” Looking around, his eyes fell on a cafe just behind them, with racks of flowers standing right beside the door. An idea sparked in his mind.

Before Keith even realized it, he was dragging the stranger into that little cafe called the ‘Bouquet’, insisting that he helped give him directions over a cup of coffee. He kept refusing, kept denying help to such an extent - but Keith did not want to hear any of that. He knew he was being compulsive - _obsessive_ , even - but he could not care. To this day, Keith never knew what made him step out so far beyond his own walls.

Finally, they sat at a table, and ordered their choice of beverage. Keith took the stranger’s map, and began marking out all the important destinations and landmarks any citizen of New York City should know, giving their directions as he went. The other man soaked it all in like a sponge, with questions and nods of agreement. Somewhere along the way, their discussion took a turn into more random things; they shared their interests, their pet peeves, their favorite places in the world, and much more. It felt so natural, Keith did not even realize he was venturing into territories he was not aware of - lands he always kept himself far away from.

And yet, nothing felt… out of place. Everything spilled out of Keith like a tidal wave, and for some reason, his heart did not feel heavy with dread. His mind did not fog up with insecurities. Everything felt crystal clear - to this day, he never knew why.

Somewhere within the heat of the discussion, Keith brought his cup to his lips, to find it empty. The stranger laughed at that, tapping the table twice.

“We’ve been here for quite some time now,” he had said, pointing outside. The sky was already turning pink, as the evening marked its beginning.

The changing sky only told Keith one thing: it was time to leave. Time to go back into his kingdom of solitude.

Keith gulped dryly, biting his cheek. Nevertheless, he raised a hand to call for their payment. A freckled waitress came and handed a black check holder - except, it had two flowers sprouting from the inside. _Two daffodils_.

“What are these for?” Keith thought out loud. The stranger grabbed one, while Keith himself grabbed the other. The both were similar and simple; white petals surrounding a yellow bloom from the center, bright like the sun, with a red ribbon tied at the end of both green stems.

Suddenly, the stranger slapped his forehead, causing more than a few heads in the cafe to turn.

Startled, Keith asked, “Hey, what’s wrong?”

“The _ribbon_ \- look at the ribbon.”

 _What’s he on about?_ he thought. Nevertheless, he grabbed the silken thing in his fingers, glancing at a small text inked in black:

_I love you a latte!_

Oh.

_Oh._

Keith’s face immediately turned red - so much so, he had to hide behind his own hands. Should he return that flower, should he talk to that waitress himself, or should he run away - he knew nothing. All he could do was sigh. “Fuck - they think we’re together, God…”

Then, the unexpected happened - the stranger laughed. Keith peeked through the gaps between his fingers, to see him hide his smile behind his flower. The daffodil failed to hide his reddening cheeks and ears, but he did not seem to care. His laughter reached the edges of his eyes, crinkling with pure mirth.

“This makes everything a lot more memorable, huh?”

That was his least favorite word. Memorable. What did that mean? To desperately, uselessly hold onto something that was gone, never to return. To think something that no longer existed could make you feel whole, happy, even special. It’s an exaggeration - nothing more, nothing less.

Yet, when that stranger said it… He did not deny it. For once, he did not deny it.

 

Now the both of them stood outside, back on the same sidewalk they first stumbled upon. It was not as busy as it had been before, thankfully. The stranger kept thanking Keith over and over again, saying that he practically “saved his life”. Of course he brushed it all off, joking that he better not get lost again.

They both wished each other well - and just like that, Keith was alone.

When the cold embraced Keith like a long lost friend, he tucked on hand deep in his pocket, the other clutching onto his flower. He turned around, already walking back into his own fort, behind walls he loved building around himself. Isolating himself from a world that was never his.

Suddenly, warmth grabbed his hand.

Keith turned around, and saw that same stranger, holding his hand, keeping him still. Before he could say anything, he spoke:

“I’m sorry, but I never got to know your name.”

The fact struck Keith across the face - two complete strangers just spent four hours enjoying a cup of coffee, without ever having exchanged names.

For some reason, there had never been a need. To this day, he never knew why.

After what felt like forever, he said, “Keith. The name's Keith.”

The stranger smiled, eyes full of warmth. “I’m Shiro.”

 

*

How could Keith give an answer? If he told him about the day they first met, the first time he learned what kindness felt like - how warm it could been for someone who loved the cold too much - would he remember?

Would he remember?

*

 

Keith shakes his head. “It’s nothing, Shiro. Don’t worry.”

Thankfully, he shrugs, sipping his coffee as if nothing ever happened. Shiro does not seem to realize they were sat at the same table, in the same cafe, holding the same two daffodils. He does not seem to remember their first encounter - their new beginning.

Despite his aching heart, Keith smiled. He preferred it that way.

A memory with Shiro was more than enough for him.


	2. Singularity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _We're intergalactic, you and me._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by (ofcourse) [this](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=p8npDG2ulKQ).
> 
> After the beauty and pain i.e. VLD season 7, I had to express all my emotions through this chapter - quite honestly my fav thing I've written so far. Enjoy!
> 
> In case you need it, here's my [Tumblr](http://kirschtrash.tumblr.com/) and my [Twitter](https://twitter.com/kirschtrash?lang=en)!

_**Chapter 2: Singularity** _

 

* * *

 

 

“What’s this?”

The question stands quiet like the night, perpetual like the darkness within the room. Those words feel as soft as a lover’s whisper, but with the strain of uncertainty, like a boulder teetering over the edge of an abyss - any moment now. Any moment now.

Keith does not understand. He turns his head to his left, and finds Shiro sitting on the farthest end of his bed, back facing towards him. He looks down at something in his hands. Something small, flimsy, almost delicate.

When Shiro turns around, he says, “This thing… I don’t think I’ve seen it before.”  
  
Worry lines mark his forehead, etched around the edges of his eyes. _He looks confused_ , Keith realises. Of course he is.

But he smiles. “Show me.”

Shiro reaches out. Moonlight falls through the only window in the room. Pearlescent rays cut through the sheer silence between the two, glossing over what seems to be a card in his hand.

Their fingers brush for a fleeting moment, a moment that feels laden with significance, yet burdened with an emptiness left when something is rid of purpose. In the edge between the calm and chaos, Keith feels Shiro’s skin, his warmth. Like cracked glass, his sigh breaks the silence. Gently, he grabs the card in Shiro’s hand.   


It’s a Polaroid photograph of a lone window, hovering over the end of a stranger’s bed. Moonlight enters the room, illuminating something within the sheets that resembled skin.   
  
“I don’t remember this at all… what is it?”   
  


*  
  
How could he give an answer?   
  


*

 

The question stops time altogether, trapping Keith somewhere between the present and the past - between a life he’s forced to live, and a life he once knew. That picture carries him away, far, far away into a world that was once his own.   
It was a world that had no fortified gates. No towering walls and no bridges barricaded in fear. It was wide open; it was young, wild, and free. It was a world that did not turn, did not change: lands that stretched far beyond the horizon, an endless sky full of stars above - and Shiro by his side.   


It had always been like that.

It had always been Shiro who held his hand as if he never wanted to let go, kissed his cheeks as if he were a delicate yet catastrophic force of nature. Keith had willingly picked apart the wall he built for twenty two years of his life, just so that he could be nearer to Shiro - who made him believe he was made of stardust.

_ Intergalactic, you and me. _

Yet, it seemed as if Keith was the one the universe liked picking on. He was the pathetic one who got kicked out of his own family without regret - without remorse - just because he was unfortunate enough to fall in love with a man. He was the helpless one, who no longer had a home, no family to return to when times went bad. He was the worthless one, who dealt with his brokenness with fire, with rage - with venomous words screamed at Shiro in his own house. That was the only way he knew he was not dead yet: anger searing his skin, desperation clawing at his throat, and misery making his eyes burn.

Even then -  _ even then _ \- Shiro was the one to hold him before he fell, before he broke completely. Keith knew his pieces hurt him, was sure that his shards pierced through his skin, but of course he did not wince. Of course he did not speak a word - his warm breaths caressing his neck told the story:  _ I’m here for you, even if the universe is not. _

_ We’re intergalactic, you and me. _

Stars burst when they kissed, like a million and more supernovae lighting up the night sky. Shiro cradled his cheeks so delicately, as if he were his treasure - only his. Keith felt his heart shatter as soon as he felt words whisper against his lips: _I love you_. Shattering because Keith did not know what love was, what it felt like, why did it hurt so much. Breaking because he could not take it, because he could never return all that Shiro had gifted him - a life with purpose, a heart full of love, and warmth.

Galaxies were born that night when they made love, dancing across the fabric of space. Keith almost wanted it rough and desperate, wanted it to hurt so much he’d forget everything, but Shiro refused to. He took his time, mapping constellations on Keith’s skin with his fingers, marking his territory wherever he could with his lips, and whispering sweet nothings like a drunken chant. He looked at him with a fire he never knew he had, an intensity that seared so much Keith was ready to burn by him. Shiro loved him deeply, passionately, not once letting him think he was weak. As if he were never broken, only bent. Only strong.

Had it always been like that?

 

Keith still remembers resting his head on Shiro’s chest, tracing mindless patterns on his skin, feeling time stand still around them. He had wished that were true: could the past dissolve, and the future wait for the two of them? In a chaotic life, he wanted nothing more than a moment’s peace. Within a world full of pandemonium, let there be room for a silent night.

He closed his eyes, nestling his face in the crook of Shiro’s neck. He breathed love against his skin, and hoped that this warmth lasted forever.

Then, out of nowhere - there came a flash.

He opened his eyes, to find Shiro holding up his Polaroid camera, taking a picture of what seemed to be the window hovering over the end of the bed. As the camera’s cogs began to whirl, he sat up, anticipating a remarkable photograph, like a child waiting for the ice-cream truck to turn around the corner.  
Keith could only smiled, loving the way moonlight dripped down his bare shoulders, and the curve of his back, still flushed a beautiful pink. Taking pictures was Shiro’s favourite way to capture a moment - to _“freeze time”_ as he liked to call it.

Once the whirring sounds stopped, Keith sat up as well, with his chin resting on Shiro's shoulder. He glanced at his latest creation, to find that it was nothing extraordinary. The flash on the poor old camera was weak, not quite correcting the darkness in the room. All that could be seen was a blurry window, and pale moonlight falling on fuzzy outlines that looked like their bare legs.

But without care or concern, Shiro asked, “Why don’t you name it?”

“Me?”

Shiro did not respond, only handed him a black Sharpie. He knew better than to resist, so he had to comply.

What could he possibly call that hazy window and foggy moonlight? How could he give words to that faint moment in time, where for the first time he forgot what it felt like to be alone?

Keith scribbled in the only thing he could think of: _your home._

Shiro observed quietly. Neither did he deny it, nor did he approve of it. Instead, he only took the photo and pen from his hand, and made a tiny adjustment. Gently, he handed it back.

Now, the photo read: _our home._

_ Our home. _   
  


Keith might have never felt the tears streaming down his face if it weren’t for Shiro, who kissed them away. Through broken sobs wracking his body and hiccuping breaths, he finally realised that for once, he was not alone. For once, he did not need to hide behind a castle of shards and broken memories.

For once, he found a home in someone’s arms.

 

*

How could Keith give an answer?

If he told him about that photo, reminiscent of the day he found what it was to be in love with someone - how much it could mean to someone who had spent all his life believing he was alone - would he remember?

Would he remember?

*   
  


Keith shakes his head. “It’s just a tester shot, from when you first bought your Polaroid. It’s nothing, really.”

_Someday soon_ , he promises himself. _Someday when the sky is brighter, when my heart - and yours - is not hurting anymore._

Thankfully, Shiro does not question it. However, he stares at the photo once more, in fact for a moment too long. At the fuzzy window, and at the fogged up sheets, with their legs intertwined within. Almost fearfully, he runs his fingers across words that still read: _our home._

If he looked closely enough, would he remember everything? Would he remember living in their own world - a world that did not turn, a world with only the stars above their heads?

Keith does not venture into that territory anymore. He’s found contentment within Shiro sitting in his own room, surrounded by walls he can’t recognise. He’s found peace in him wanting to find himself once again. And Keith is willing to wait for days, months, years - _decades_ \- if it means he could one day find his way back home in Shiro's arms again.   
  


In the meantime, he's okay.

Being loved - and then forgotten - by Shiro was a privilege.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comment down below what you think of this story so far - I'm experimenting with my writing style a lot, so I need to know how I'm doing;;
> 
> Thanks for reading if you made it this far - until next time!


	3. Euphoria

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Someday, the storm will pass and the sun will come out - why not enjoy the rain while it lasts?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is inspired by (you guessed it) [this](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kX0vO4vlJuU&t=4s).
> 
> As always, you can find me on [Twitter](http://kirschtrash.tumblr.com/>Tumblr</a>%20and%20<a%20href=)
> 
> Do stick around for the End Notes!
> 
> Enjoy~

_**Chapter 3: Euphoria** _

 

* * *

 

 

 

“Why does my heart feel so heavy?”

A whisper. That’s all it is. Yet, even in the storm, Keith hears him.

Gulping dryly, he turns to his left, and looks at the man he once knew. “What do you mean?”

Shiro does not look back. His eyes gaze up at grey clouds hanging over them like a dark curse, clouds that relentlessly bring forth rain as heavy as grief itself. He looks pensive, distraught. Yet with a stable voice, he says:

“I can’t remember a lot from my past. It’s as if an entire part of me is gone, a part of me I can never get back. Despite being so- so empty… Why does the rain make my heart feel so heavy?”

Keith opens his mouth, but no words come out. All he can do is stare at him wordlessly, breathlessly, pathetically. The man he once knew. _The man I still love._

Rain continues to fall around them. Silently, like a prayer sung in sorrow.

 

*   
  
How could he give an answer?  
  
  
*

 

The rain does not just bring stormy winds that make the trees stir. It brings bittersweet memories of a time that once was, of a life Keith loved calling his own. If he closes his eyes, he can still recall one recollection, a single echo that stands out in the noise. He can still relive it.

It had been a sunny morning and a humid afternoon through and through. Nobody could have predicted the dark, dense clouds that rolled by that day. Nobody could have suspected the rain that fell - cold, cruel and unrelenting like a heartless king.  
Nobody was ready for the storm - least of all Keith. With no umbrella, and no coat, he was caught by surprise. Trapped underneath a lone tree that stood in the park, all he could do was stare at the sky - a storm that felt alive, breathing and twisting like a demon, with no intention of leaving.

He couldn’t help but shiver.

Shiro, however, had other ideas.

He was standing in the rain, and he was smiling. Arms wide, shirt soaking wet, rain water trickling down his skin. Smiling, as if he had just gotten a taste of pure bliss.

Keith still remembers the unrest making his heart beat fast for no reason. He had felt like shouting, fighting, running away, yet he did not know why.

But then, Shiro turned to look at him. Cheeks flushed, eyes glowing with pure euphoria. Then, the words broke through Keith's fort:

“Why doesn’t the rain make your heart feel heavy?”

Of course, Shiro did not respond. He only smiled.

One step, two steps, and then three more… he came close, took hold of Keith’s hands, so cold despite being dry. His warmth took over him entirely, reeling him into some trance-like state.

 

It wasn’t until the first clap of thunder came that Keith realised he was standing in the rain.

Droplets trickled down the back of his neck, cold, slow and dangerous. Within seconds he was soaking wet, but nature was brutal still, refusing to give him even a moment's peace. Unknowingly, his hair stood on their ends, his entire body freezing up as if a demon were creeping up behind him. His breaths got stuck in his throat, as if he were _drowning_ \- drowning in an unknown sorrow that never left him for as long as he could remember.

But then, Shiro gripped his hands tight. He looked at him as if he were looking at the stars.

“Because I know that someday, the storm’s gonna pass,” he had said. “In days, months, maybe years… someday, the sun’s gonna come out. Might as well enjoy the rain while it lasts.”

Keith was speechless, breathless. How could someone dissolve the melancholy that loved preying on him for years, as easily as if it never even existed? How could someone make him feel so coveted with just a touch, just a smile? How could anyone have so much hope for a future overshadowed by raging winds, gloomy skies and rain as severe as pain itself?

He had no answer. For once, he didn’t want one.

All he wanted to do was to revel in Shiro: his fingers tracing mindless patterns on the back of his hands, his chest rising and falling with steady breaths fanning across Keith’s face - and his eyes. God, he could never forget them. Eyes brimming with something he could not give a name to. All he knew that it was warm, humane, hopeful. It was beautiful.

 

*  
  
  
How could he give an answer?

How could he know what made Shiro’s heart hurt - was it the Universe merely fixing a wound in his heart, nudging some sore spots in the process, or was it mocking him? Was it ridiculing him for missing something he could no longer remember, something he had no clue about?

How could someone like Keith know?  
  
  
*

 

Another clap of thunder pulls out Keith from his reverie. But it holds him hostage in a secluded moment frozen in time - a moment with distant, hearty chatter, followed by honking cars. Then there came the screeching tires, a shout into the void, a crash - and then darkness.

  
Keith suppresses a shudder, biting his lip so hard he knows he’s drawn blood. Could he repent for simply _existing_ \- for dragging someone as valuable as Shiro into circumstances that led him to lose a part of himself? Could he rebuild their ruined glass castle out of jagged shards?

 

He did not know. But he could try.

Wordlessly, he takes Shiro’s hands in his. A moment of panic flashes across Shiro’s eyes - there’s hesitancy he can sense, an unspoken fear.

Keith only grips his hands tighter, and looks him in the eye. _Trust me._

It does the trick: now when Keith pulls him, Shiro does not resist. He follows, stepping outside the lone tree they both stood under - and into the rain.

It does not hurt, Keith realises. Sure, the finer droplets sting his skin when they fall from the sky, but it does not hurt. _For once, it does not hurt._

Shiro is quiet, but visibly rigid. His shoulders are stiff, his stare wide and anxious, as if he’s ready to attack anyone at any moment.

Keith laughs a little. He places his hands on his shoulders - broad, warm, strong. Squeezing them, he says, “It’s okay, nothing’s gonna happen. It's just the rain.”

 _It's just the rain._ The words seem to hit Shiro close to him, for his shoulders suddenly drop. He lets out a deep sigh he seems to have held for centuries. However, the uncertainty in his eyes still remains.

Thunder strikes again - but this time, Keith does not shiver. He pushes his wet hair off of his forehead, and he smiles. For Shiro. Only for Shiro.

Grabbing his hands once more, he grips them hard. God - what could he say? 

 

*  
 

What can I even say?

What could fix the damage that’s already been done by the Universe itself?  
  
  
*

 

“The sun’s gonna come out anyway - let’s enjoy the rain while it lasts.”

  
The phrase leaves his heart like scripture leaving a saint’s lips. No hiccups of short breath, no guilt plaguing his heart, nothing. No tears, no regrets, no pain - the words feel like a weight lifted off of his shoulders. For once, Keith feels euphoria.

He hopes Shiro understands what those words mean, how beautiful they are - how significant they had to be for the fabric of space and time to remember for ages to come, like words inscribed in a sacred book for all of mankind to read, to worship, to believe in. He hopes he could relay everything he could not say out loud through touch, through skin.

Maybe Shiro did feel it, because he tilts his head up to the sky, basking in the rain, the wind, the clouds and the thunder - and smiles.

 

A part of Keith still wants to see a bit of the past in his eyes - the same warmth that made him love the world.

But for now, he is happy. He is okay.

  
Because someday, the storm will pass.

Someday, the sun will come out.

  
_When that day comes, I will be by your side._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you if you made it to the end. This whole series took a huge part of me to write, as simple as it may seem - and I hope you felt a part of me <3
> 
> Until next time, take care!

**Author's Note:**

> Comment down below if you enjoyed or have any criticism - I'm trying to experiment with my writing style!
> 
> Thanks, and lets meet again <3


End file.
